I was just kidding with “Dead Puppies.”
Here is my all-time favorite dog song. I used to sing this to my Boston Terrier all the time.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kfZXTNoAL7g
This Cat’s Shakin’ —Brian Setzer
Rockin’ Dog —The Reverend Horton Heat
And because it was clearly patterned on Aerosmith's version...
“Old Brown Dog” by Ralph McTell. Great old song with a nice guitar solo by Caleb Quay at the end.
Cat: We Are Siamese
Dog: He’s A Tramp
—from Lady and The Tramp
“Choose Me” sung by wonderful country songwriter Tim Johnson (who died a few years ago tragically in his 50s).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sutC-4j3nRE
The Weight—The Band
Old King—Neil Young
I Wanna Be Your Dog—The Stooges
Greyhound Girl—Pete Townshend
Squeeze - Cool For Cats
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uJ2cEc_TCH8
Sloan
C.W. McCall
Album Wolf Creek Pass
Well, I found him on the corner of Seventh and Main
In the Iowa township of Sloan (Township of Sloan...)
He’s tired, and he’s hungry, he’s old, and he’s grungy
And parked in a no-parkin’ zone
Well I bent down an’ says “How ya doin’, old fella?”
He tried to get up on his own (On his own...)
When I gave him a piece a’ my ham salad sandwich
He reached up an’ licked on my nose
He gave him a piece of his ham salad sandwich
And reached up and licked on his nose
Old Sloan...
Well, I opened the door of my old beat-up semi
Threw an old dirty shirt on the floor (On the floor...)
He hopped in an’ laid hisself down by the gearshift
Curled up and started to snore
For years we went truckin’ them highways together
On the byways of life we did roam (They did roam...)
With his paws on the dashboard an’ his head out the winda
An’ his ears in the breeze, gently blowin’
With his paws on the dashboard, his head out the winder
And his ears in the breeze gently blowin’
Old Sloan...
When one mornin’ last May, four miles north a’ Mondamin
I stopped to use a pay telephone (Pay telephone...)
Old Sloan made a fireplug, while I made a phone call
An’ when I come back, he was gone
Well I searched forty miles of that Interstate highway
And the byways that we used to roam (Used to roam...)
From Ricketts to Red Line, Magnolia to Woodbine
But I just couldn’t find poor ol’ Sloan
From Fiscus to Jacksonville, Quick to Correctionville
Looked like the end for old Sloan
Poor ol’ fella. He didn’t have no license, nor shots, nor nothin’
I thought he’s a goner
When on a cold winter day on the ninth of November
I’s drivin’ my rig all alone (All alone...)
When my eye caught a blur in my left rear-view mirror
An’ my ears heard the sound of old Sloan
He’s runnin’ as fast as his old legs could run ‘im
An’ cryin’ for me to slow down (To slow down...)
His tail was a-waggin’, his tongue was a-draggin’
An’ I opened the door for old Sloan
His tail was a-waggin’, his tongue was a-draggin’
And he opened the door for old Sloan
Old Sloan...
Well I gave him a hug as he licked me all over
An’ I threw him his old dirty bone (Old dirty bone...)
Then in through the winda jumped a poodle from Pisgah
An’ she set on down beside Sloan
Then in through the winder come a poodle from Pisgah
And set herself down beside Sloan
Old Sloan...
So that’s where ya been, boy
Hey! She’s kinda purty
Aw, Sloan